


Snape's Worst Memory

by torino10154



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Ficlet, Het, Non-Consensual, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 21:47:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torino10154/pseuds/torino10154
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for <a href="http://hp-darkarts.livejournal.com/">HP_DarkArts</a> In the Shadow of the Season fest, Dec 2013.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Snape's Worst Memory

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [HP_DarkArts](http://hp-darkarts.livejournal.com/) In the Shadow of the Season fest, Dec 2013.

Severus pressed his hand to the dark cherry wood, the warmth of his protective magic heating his palm before the small clasp snicked open. A single phial rested inside, nestled delicately in black velvet. He trailed a finger over it from top to bottom, debating whether he wanted to relive it yet again. Unable to deny himself, he carefully lifted the phial and poured it into the Pensieve, gently prodding at the surface with his wand. 

Lily's face floated to the surface, tears streaming down her fair cheeks. Severus's chest tightened in pain even as his cock began to stir, flesh memory nearly as strong as that of the mind. She'd been so beautiful beneath him, even as she struggled. Not a day went by he didn't think of her, but occasionally his body desired a more vivid reminder.

Severus had only wanted to talk to her once they got back home from Hogwarts, away from the influence of Potter and Black. She came with him, finally, to their spot in the woods, perhaps hoping if she gave in, he'd give up and leave her alone. He tried, yet again, to explain himself. But she wouldn't listen. She turned to leave. 

Adrenaline and arousal, lust and fear bubbled to the surface, driving him past the point of no return. He reached for her arm and yanked, spinning her around and pushing her to the ground. She tried to get away, kicking out and pounding her fists, but he could not allow her to escape him. 

She was wearing a short summer dress—the white and yellow flowers were now imprinted on his brain—and while one hand held her wrists, the other reached between her thighs, easily pushing aside the soft cotton fabric of her knickers. He used his weight to pin her legs and hastily reached inside his trousers to free his aching cock. 

Once, just once, he had to have her. 

"Severus, please," she said, voice hoarse from shouting. "Don't...."

He'd begged for her forgiveness all for naught, so now it was he who was no longer listening, her cries falling on deaf ears as he pushed inside her. She was tight around him, his bollocks drawing up on only the third thrust, but he didn't care. Looking down into those brilliant green eyes—eyes filled with hurt and betrayal—he jerked his hips again and came. 

He'd barely had time to pull out and tuck himself back into his pants when she jumped up and began to run. Fortunately, even though he couldn't use it, he never went anywhere without his wand. She'd need to pass his house on the way back to hers.

When they were younger, she'd have been more likely to beat him, but his legs were much longer since he'd hit puberty. He caught up to her two houses from his own, his chest burning from running after her.

He pressed her to the neighbour's garden wall, hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming. He looked around nervously, for the time remembering he wasn't allowed to use magic. But he had to; there was no other choice. 

Bodily holding her to the wall, he pointed the wand at her temple. " _Obliviate_."

The memory began to dissolve as a slightly confused Lily walked away from Severus for the last time, though she carried a bit of him inside her.

Stepping back from the Pensieve, Severus jerked himself off roughly, his seed wasted on the cold stone floor. 

He replaced the memory into the phial carefully, locked the box, and charmed it once more to his touch alone. No one, not the Dark Lord nor Dumbledore, would ever be privy to that memory. 

It was his most cherished of all.


End file.
